


Some New Memories

by LadyAmina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Relationships, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Love, M/M, MWPP, Memories, Secret Relationship, Shrieking Shack, jily, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAmina/pseuds/LadyAmina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Christmas shopping one Hogsmeade visit, Sirius decides that Remus needs to make some really good memories to balance out the bad ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some New Memories

“Wormtail, I. Will. Not.” James folded his arms defiantly.

Peter’s face colored deeply as each of his friends gazed at him in horror. “What, why?” He tried for resilient, but wound up mumbling in the end, “I thought it was as good an idea as any.”

“I will not - I _can_ not - purchase Lily Evans a pair of _socks_ for Christmas, I won’t do it. How many years of preparation? How many schemes of cunning, hard work and determination -”

“-Will I have wasted? It all culminates here, Boys -”

“This is it. The final crucible. The ultimate trial. The last true test of my worth as a wizard-”

“ _The First Christmas_. A memory to share for the rest of our lives until we’re both disgustingly decrepit and I’ve got a beard to rival Dumbledore’s.” Remus, Peter and Sirius respectively recited the mantra James had been foisting upon them for the last week and a half. Though, Sirius may have taken liberties with the phrasing of the last bit.

James, however, felt no shame. After years -years- of pursuit, the ever-elusive-Evans was his. All his, actually his. It had happened one night in the Gryffindor Common Room early that year. He had been standing next to the enormous fireplace, loudly proclaiming her many desirable attributes, as he was wont to do on Tuesday evenings, when she had simply walked up to him and demanded he cease his proclamations with the promise that she would agree to a single date with him. That was all James needed, he was certain. One date. By some miraculous act of Merlin and Morgana, he wasn’t wrong. After the Saturday succeeding that evening, they had henceforth been known as Lily-and-James. Practically inseparable. He’d be damned if he was going to spend a single moment not basking in her unbelievable aura of intellect, wit and beauty if he didn’t absolutely _have_ to be somewhere else. What was more, she seemed just as disinclined to say goodbye whenever it came time to do so, which couldn’t have inflated James’s ego more if she’d attached him to a compressed oxygen tank.

He absolutely, positively could _not_ ruin all of that by selecting anything less than the perfect Christmas gift. This was the last Hogsmeade trip before the holiday break and they’d already been searching as a team for three hours at this point. He was starting to get desperate.

“Oh, but look,” Remus said with an ill-concealed smirk on his face, “These ones are charmed to warm your toes. That’s damn utilitarian, don’t you think, James?”

“I am not looking for _utilitarian_ , Moony,” James ground out through gritted teeth and heaved a great, dramatic sigh of exasperation. “You three are all too single to be useful.”

Sirius fell into a coughing fit, but James didn’t seem to notice. Peter slapped him on the back, which only made him cough harder.

Remus threw Sirius a look of disdain before turning back to his friend-in-crisis. “There’s always Tome-”

“Don’t, Remus. Do not say ‘Tomes and Scrolls’ because I will personally take a _book_ and shove it down your throat so hard you’ll start digesting it before you can cough it back up,” James threatened.

“In what universe is a book a bad idea for Evans?” Remus asked sharply.

“I am not getting her a book! And I am not getting her socks! And I am not getting her fireworks in any form!” James shot a glare at Sirius for his earlier suggestion.

“Fireworks can be very romantic!” Sirius stood his ground.

“I think I’d know she would appreciate a book, as the only person _here_ who has managed to spend time with her and _actually_ _listen to what she has to say_ instead of staring at her in disbelieving adoration!” Remus fumed.

“AAAAAGGGGGGHH!” James had reached his tipping point. Both of his hands were in his hair, turning it rapidly from casually-disheveled to madman-on-the-loose before their eyes. “Alright, here’s how today is going to go. _I_ am going to go buy a gift for my _girlfriend_. I will see you three hopelessly single _bastards_ at the carriages in two hours. Yeah?” It was classically James to bark orders at his friends but wait for their approval anyway. He received his nod from each of them in turn and spun around to leave Gladrag’s Wizardwear.

“Two hours. What will we do with two whole hours away from our Jamesy?” Sirius asked quietly, and though Remus was still browsing the assorted socks, he could hear the lewd smirk in his tone.

“Well, we could grab a butterbeer somewhere,” Peter suggested. Sirius’s head snapped up as if he just remembered their other friend was still there.

Remus remained level-headed, his face a mask of calm as he addressed Peter. “You’re a coward and you know it, Wormtail.”

Wormtail’s face fell. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh,” Remus quirked an eyebrow at him. “So the name Mathilda McGillis means nothing to you, does it?” He could feel Sirius’s eyes on the back of his head. It was the same thing he felt whenever they got themselves into a particularly sticky situation whilst marauding and Sirius was depending on Remus to bail them out. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Of course it does - she’s a Ravenclaw, so?” Peter folded his arms, giving up the pretense of sock-shopping. Remus did not. He kept picking them up a pair at a time to peruse them. Occasionally there would be a loud noise, or strange glowing from one pair or another.

“So…” Remus put on his best mousy voice and imitated Peter, “I think I’m finally gonna do it. Lord knows if Prongs can get Evans, I can get McGillis no problem. I think I’ll ask her to Puddyfoot’s or something. No, maybe that’s too much, but I’m definitely gonna do it, you watch-”

“Yes, yes, yes, I know what I said. But she’s with her _friends_ , and they all walk in a pack. And I saw her talking to Kenneth Scarblazer earlier, and he’s so tall…”

“Pete, you act like you’ve never seen a girl before. Come up with a plan, get her on her own - I beg you in the _least_ creepy way possible, please - and just ask. There’s only two things she could say.” The socks in Remus’s hand let out a puff of rose-scented air, which he tried not to choke on as he dropped them quickly.

“But I like this one. I don’t want to muck it all up this time, now’s just not the right moment. I’ll do it, I will, but not today.” Wormtail chewed on his lip indecisively. It was time for the pounce.

“Coward.” Remus repeated, shaking his head. “What kind of Marauder are you, Wor-”

“Fine! Fine, I’ll do it! Damn you, Moony!” Wormtail huffed but made no move to follow through with his words.

Remus looked up finally, holding Peter’s eyes with his own hard stare. Peter shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably for a moment before he made a blustering noise in the back of his throat and grumbled all the way out of the shop - something about having seen her near The Magic Neep earlier.

Remus waited for three beats of peace before he turned around to meet Sirius’s gaze. Good lord, he hoped he hadn’t been looking at him like that this whole time, or James and Peter would know something was amiss for sure. Sirius’s eyes were hungry and his lips were sliding into a devious smirk.

“Moony, I do believe you just manipulated our friends. That’s not very nice, you know.” Sirius folded his arms, chastising in the least convincing way Remus had ever seen.

“I may have. They’re just as happy either way, no real harm done.” Remus shrugged.

“And why would you do that?” Sirius asked, humor glinting in his eyes.

“They were being loud. And cumbersome. Four’s a crowd sometimes.” Remus returned to sifting through the strange footwear.

“How’s two?” He felt Sirius approach him slowly, his voice getting louder one step at a time.

“Two’s not so bad. Unless you get noisy, in which case I’ll send you away, too, so careful.” Remus warned.

“I’ll be very careful to make as little noise as possible,” Sirius said, which Remus doubted on just about every level. He snorted, with as little grace as possible, and shook his head. Sirius changed tact. “What do _you_ want for Christmas, Moony?”

Remus shrugged without bothering to think about it.

“If you don’t stop looking at those damn socks, you’ll be receiving hosiery for the holidays.” Remus immediately dropped what he was holding back in the bin and turned around with his hands still in the air, demonstrating how very devoid of socks they were.

“Honestly, Padfoot, I want nothing,” His eyes were honest, but “nothing for Christmas” would never stand for Sirius. He didn’t care if he was a million miles away, the people he loved would _always_ receive a gift on Christmas, whether they requested it or not.

“C’mon, Moony,” He rolled his eyes and led the way out of Gladrag’s, Remus just behind him.

The street was just being dusted by powdery snow, which was falling lazily around them while they walked. Sirius fell into a lazy, wandering pace as they traveled up the street, hands swinging at his sides. Remus found a stride beside him, his own hands buried in his pockets. He kept stealing glances at Sirius, enjoying the way the snow gathered on Sirius’s fitted cap and scarf and clung to the ends of his dark hair.

Once, when he happened to glance over at him, Sirius was attempting to catch a snowflake on his tongue, face tilted toward the gray sky, eyes closed. Remus clenched his fists in his pockets, digging his nails into the flesh of his palms to steady himself. “Padfoot, where are we going?”

Sirius stuck his tongue back in his mouth - for which Remus couldn’t decide whether he was dismayed or relieved - and smiled at Remus. Sirius smiling was a different Sirius entirely. His whole face transformed, angular to soft, dimples and shining eyes in the matter of a second. “We’re going on a date.”

Remus stopped walking. “Sirius…”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Well I’m not taking you to Madam Puddyfoot’s, if that’s what you’re worried about. Speaking of which, Pete is doomed for failure, thanks to you. He probably _is_ going to try to take her to that damned pink cafe. Not nice, Moony, I’m telling you, not nice.”

“Sirius-”

“Just relax, alright? Trust me.” Sirius began walking again and Remus followed despite himself.

“Trust you? When has trusting you ever worked out for me in the past?” Remus asked, exasperated.

Sirius just smirked to himself and muttered, nearly inaudibly, “I can think of one time.”

Remus had no comment for that, and so he just walked alongside his companion quietly. They walked up the street, past all of their usual shops and down the empty road, having left the masses of Hogwarts students behind some time ago. There was only one thing at the end of this path that Remus knew of - in fact he knew that for a fact, there _was_ only one building there.

“Sirius…” He warned for maybe the thousandth time that afternoon.

“Trust me, Remus,” Sirius sighed, his steps never faltering.

“No, Sirius, I don’t want to go there. Why would I want to go there, what the hell are you thinking?” Remus’s chest felt tight. It was like a betrayal, even though, he reasoned with himself, Sirius wasn’t actually doing anything wrong.

“Please, please trust me.” Sirius’s tone was earnest. He never said ‘please’. Remus swallowed the lump in his throat and continued down the walkway, considerably less at peace with the world than he had been a moment ago. He didn’t look back over at Sirius the rest of the way to the Shrieking Shack.

Sirius looked around in the most conspicuous manor imaginable and approached the shack. He started prying up one of the windows open. Remus stood back, still several meters from the shack. “Do we have to go in?” he asked, crossing his arms. He wasn’t being coy, this was making him uncomfortable.

“Yes, we have to go in, Moony, why would we come all the way down to the Shrieking Shack just to look at it?” Sirius asked, looking back at Remus like _he_ was the one being absurd.

“Why would we come all the way down to the Shrieking Shack to do anything at all, is my question,” Remus grumbled and turned away, gazing back up the street, where he could still see the shapes of his classmates moving about the village.

“Because-” Remus jumped when Sirius spoke from immediately behind him and Sirius grabbed his elbows to steady him before he tumbled into the snow, “This shack is just a shack, Moony. It is not the wolf. It does not have power over you. And you, my furry friend, need to make some new memories of the place. And I know just the kind of thing that will drive all thoughts of lycanthropy from your mind.” His voice grew huskier as he spoke and Remus shivered.

Still not entirely convinced, Remus allowed himself to be led to the now-open window. Sirius let go of his elbow only to offer his arm to help him through the window. Reluctantly, Remus took the arm and hoisted himself onto the sill, clambering into the once-sitting-room of the shack and waited for Sirius to follow.

Remus had seen the room before. True, most nights he spent in the shack he kept to the bedroom, confining himself in wait for another night’s torment. But some nights he did walk through the halls, moseying through the rooms aimlessly when he was restless without his friends, who wouldn’t arrive until he himself was already gone. He had not, however, seen this room in the daylight. Nor any other room for that matter. He routinely spent evenings in the shack, but rarely was he there with any daylight left at all, and mornings after full-moons were reserved for hospital wings, not marauder-like investigation of shacks. Sometimes when the days got longer he did have enough light in the glow of the sunset to explore the shack without wand-light, but seeing the sitting room during the day, looking dusty and particularly gray, was most unnerving.

Sirius did not pull himself through the window quietly. He stomped onto the wood floor with a crash and cacophonous protests of creaking wood-window frames. It was mildly alarming how ostentatious he could be when he didn’t feel like being stealthy. If he’d been this noisy on any of their cartography excursions, The Map would have been a doomed exercise. Remus knew when he was finally in and settled when the noise died down.

“Okay, we’re in. I’m here. Now what?” Remus asked. He knew his voice sounded cold. This was not how he had pictured spending the two hours he and Sirius _finally_ had alone together. What with the mid-year examinations and essays due over the last two weeks, the pair had barely had time to sit together casually in the common room with each other, let alone spare a more private moment. It had been a very long two weeks indeed.

“Now, you relax before you blow something up out of tension. Don’t be so Moony about it,” Sirius ordered.

This did not lessen Remus’s tension. “Sirius, can’t we-”

He was cut off by the feeling of two hands on his hips, coming around to his front. He was enclosed in Sirius’s arms before he could protest any further.

“No,” Remus felt dry, cold-cracked lips against his ear, “We can not, Remus. Are you worried we’re going to get in trouble?”

Remus knew Sirius couldn’t see his face, but he pulled a disbelieving expression anyway. “No, I’m not worried we’re going to get in trouble. I’m trying to have a pleasant day, but my damn _boyfriend_ dragged me to the house-of-everlasting-trauma.” He forced the word out, even though it still felt weird on his tongue. After nine months, one would think Remus Lupin would be used to the word ‘boyfriend’, but one would be wrong. Sirius threw the word around enough - in discrete company, of course, namely when they were alone - but Remus still couldn’t quite fit his mouth around the two syllables without some effort.

By way of response, Sirius pulled Remus against his chest and buried his nose in his neck. Remus smiled despite himself.

“Well, Moony,” Sirius began walking backwards until he was close enough to the wall beside the window they’d just climbed through to spin around and push Remus against it, “The way I see it is this: This Shrieking Shack belongs to the marauders. Apart from the occasional Dumbledore and Pomfrey visit, we’re the only ones who come in, and we’re _definitely_ the only ones who reside here on a regular basis. This is Marauder territory. And I absolutely refuse to believe that you have some sort of bad association with a place that the Marauders have claimed for their own.” Sirius stood about a half a foot away from Remus.

“’Bad associations’? Pads, I come here once a month to experience the very worst part of myself. This is basically hallowed as a place of negativity for me.” Remus’s jaw stiffened.

“Well, yes. Those are very bad memories to have of a place. So today, we’re going to start making some very, very good memories to balance those out.” Sirius moved closer - as close as he could without actually touching Remus.

Remus glared at Sirius for what must have been a full minute. A glance at his wristwatch told him that they had a little less than an hour and a half until they had to meet Peter and James at the carriages. He let out a heavy breath. He had two options. Pout over this - which would be plain weird, honestly, Remus wasn’t sure he knew _how_ to pout; or roll his eyes and move on before they ran out of time.

His eyes met the ceiling, but he sunk a little lower on the wall so that their height was more or less evenly matched. Without so much as a nod of understanding, he caught Sirius by the scarf and pulled him the last few inches until their lips met.

When Remus kissed Sirius, he felt like he could breathe. Like he’d been suffocating in a dusty, stuffy attic and someone finally opened a window to let in fresh air. Sirius’s lips were still a little chapped from the snowy breeze, and Remus was sure his were, too, but he’d never be able to bring himself to complain about that. The kiss itself was as rough as their lips, smooth and jagged all at once, all impatient need and youthful excitement. Sirius’s tongue danced over Remus’s bottom lip, which made Remus’s knees weak. Presently, he was very glad he was standing against a wall.

Before Sirius could fully slip his tongue into Remus’s mouth, Remus pulled away. Not far, however. His lips still brushed against the other boy’s when he spoke. “These better be some very, _very_ good memories, Black,” He murmured and bit down lightly on Sirius’s lip.

Sirius groaned quietly. “No pressure or anything,” He almost sounded nervous. Almost.

“Oh, no. Lots and lots of pressure,” Remus assured him. Anything else Sirius had to say was lost in Remus’s next - if possible even more enthusiastic - kiss. His arms came up and locked themselves around Sirius’s neck, while Sirius’s hands came to rest on his waist, fingers light and casual at first, but gripping near to the point of pain only moments later.

“Is that a challenge, Messr. Moony?”

It took a matter of minutes from the time Sirius pulled Remus’s sweater over his head to the time the last sock hit the floor, strewn about six feet away from the rest of the articles that had been tossed away carelessly. Suddenly Remus wasn’t thinking about being in the Shrieking Shack anymore.  
  
#

Remus and Sirius were curled together in a tangle of limbs on Remus’s wolf-scratched four-poster bed, with its torn hangings and now-bunched sheets. Sirius’s fingers trailed lazily up and down Remus’s spine, sending the the naked skin of his back into fits of tingles that made him grin stupidly into Sirius’s neck.

“So, Moony? Did it work?” Sirius asked after a few moments of silence and stillness.

Remus dug his nose further into the crook of Sirius’s jaw. He smelled like sweat and sex and Sirius. It was Remus’s new favorite smell. “Mmm, I don’t know yet,” He mumbled by way of response.

“Well, let’s take an assessment, shall we? You have now made new memories of The Shrieking Shack. Quite excellent memories, if I do say so myself,” Remus chuckled and shook his head, still savoring the moment, committing everything his senses could gather to memory. “We made memories in the sitting room; we made memories on what I assume used to be a kitchen counter-top; we made memories at both the bottom and top of the stairs; and we made memories in the room you use to transform. I think, clinically speaking, that we’re off to a decent start.” Remus could hear the broad grin in Sirius’s voice.

“A start, yes. Now how the hell are we supposed to manage distracting Wormtail and Prongs long enough to get back here next time, because there’s _no way_ that thing you did in the kitchen isn’t happening again. I’ll not allow it.” Remus demanded.

Sirius shook with lazy laughter. “You’re so very bossy, you know that?”

“I do, actually. You tell me so about four times a week.” Remus kissed the angular bone of Sirius’s jaw a few times.

“Anyway, I don’t know, Moony, you’re the one that shucked them in the first place today, you’ll need to come up with a plan next time, too.” Sirius massaged Remus’s hip with the hand that wasn’t on his back. Which felt particularly welcome given its soreness. Remus stretched and wriggled into the touch.

“That’s not fair, I always come up with the plan,” He protested.

“This is how we work, Moony. You come up with the plan, I execute, you yell at me when I muck it up,” He explained as if this process were the most natural in the world. “Heavens, it’s like your new to this.”

Remus groaned and rolled onto his back, a motion that did not go unprotected by both parties. Somehow, his watch had managed to survive the frenzied removal of clothing that had occurred previously. He glared at the stupid ugly minute hand for a long time. “No.” He told it.

“’No’, you’re not new? Or ‘no’ you won’t come up with the plans?” Sirius asked, flipping onto his side and propping himself up on an elbow to face Remus.

“Neither. ‘No’, we’re supposed to be meeting our friends to head back to school in eight minutes.” He huffed and sagged into the mattress.

“That is… awful news. Why would you say that?” Sirius pouted. Unlike Remus, Sirius _did_ know how to pout. It was one of the life-skills he rather prided himself on, actually.

“Clothing sounds atrocious right now,” Remus grumbled.

“I’m going to be brutally honest with you, Moonbeam,” Sirius warned, “You do not look good in clothes. It is just a fact. Terrible. Hideous. Might I suggest that you forgo them entirely? They’re not all that necessary to your wellbeing in the first place and you are a far better person when you’ve got them off anyway.”

“You make a convincing argument, you do,” Remus struggled not to laugh. “But given the risk of blinding everyone else around me, I think I’ll suffer through a hideous life of healthy-personal-shame. “

Sirius sighed dramatically, “It’s just as well, I’d miss you in all of your sweaters anyway.”

Remus rolled his eyes and turned over to kiss Sirius one more time before he sat up, stretching his now-aching limbs. He took a moment to look around the room. The broken furniture and scratched, peeling walls were as present as ever, but somehow, he didn’t feel the constricting misery he normally felt in this room.

They dressed - not as hastily as they probably ought to have - and returned to the sitting-room to make their escape. A small patch of snow was gathering on the floor in front of the window. They’d forgotten to shut it.

“Oh,” Remus muttered, abruptly cautious. “Erm, you don’t think anyone heard…”

Sirius wrapped an arm around his waist. “It’s the _Shrieking_ shack, Moony,” He practically giggled, “The locals are used to all sorts of moaning and howling, aren’t they?”

Even after all that had transpired between them, Remus managed to blush.

“And yet, somehow, it’s always _you,”_ Sirius pointed out.

Remus punched him in the arm, hard enough to knock him sideways momentarily. He mumbled, “Not _always,_ apparently,” So quietly, he was pretty sure Sirius wouldn’t be able to hear him. He was wrong. Sirius just shrugged, like he was humbly proud of himself.

Safely out of the home and several paces down the road, Remus turned back to look at the shack. It was just a musty old building, all crumbling wood and boarded windows. Maybe Sirius was right. Maybe it didn’t have to be a place of perpetual anguish. Maybe, with the help of his friends - and a little extra help from Sirius - it could be a place of love.

“Sirius?” He asked and brushed his boyfriend’s elbow with his own.

“Hm?”

“Thank you. And… Merry Christmas.” Remus felt tell-tale heat in his face as he said it.

Sirius’s answering smile made it entirely worth the trouble. “Merry Christmas, Moony.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I think it's a one-shot, but I haven't decided yet.


End file.
